


whumptober: tear stains

by whatsanapocalae



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Break Up, Coffee, Coming Out, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Adam can't leave well enough alone when he finds Frank trying to work after a bad break up.





	whumptober: tear stains

The windows of Francis’ office were dark, the opacity filter fully turned up. Adam had seen it before, more times than he he ever wanted to, and knew that it meant that Francis had worked himself hard enough that he couldn’t go home, that he was too tired to even bike home, that the little couch on the back wall was getting some use. He couldn’t have Francis asleep, not right now, at four in the morning, when he’d just come back from a mission. He still smelt like powdered cement, blood, sweat, and leather, but this was important. He had to get that information to Francis as soon as possible. 

As tired as he knew the man was, he needed this data decrypted, Sarif needed it decrypted, and neither of them were going to go home until it was done. 

He knocked lightly on Francis’ door. There was, unsurprisingly, no answer. Decrypting a download of perfectly legally obtained data couldn’t have been that hard. He was sure that he could figure it out, if he could figure out what software he needed. It was software that Francis would have had, which would still mean getting into his office though. 

He knocked again, louder this time, and heard a shuffling from inside, fabric and breath fluttering. When Francis called out to him, it wasn’t with the grogginess of sleep, just a bit stilted and strange. Fro a fleeting moment Adam wondered if he’d caught Francis doing something he shouldn’t have. 

“Just a second, I’m coming!” he heard the growl in Francis’ voice, the annoyance of being interrupted. 

The door opened quickly enough and, whatever Adam thought he was doing, he was wrong. Francis’ hair was pulled down from its usual ponytail, fluffed and mangled from hands running through it. He wasn’t wearing his orange and black jacket, just a black turtleneck, but the neck looked like it had been torn from his throat a few times too many, the fabric now lax. His eyes, usually that cold gray blue, were electrified, the blue in them brighter and more enticing than usual, a stark contrast to the red around them. Because the vessels in his eyes were prominent and swollen, the dark bags around them even heavier than usual. There were marks, not around his eyes as they had been rubbed away in an attempt to clean himself up, but on his cheeks and jaw. They glistened a little, still somewhat wet, catching the subtle light of Francis’ office. 

Adam didn’t ask. He didn’t have time to ask. He wasn’t supposed to care, it wasn’t like they were friends. He handed the information over. “Sarif needs this encrypted.” It wasn’t said kindly, it wasn’t said humanly, it was just sort of barked out like even his voice had been augmented.   
Francis’ shoulders slumped, as if disappointed. He took it though and stepped back into the half light of his office. “Good to see you too then.” 

He wanted something. He wanted help, or to at least be asked what was wrong, but he was also not looking at Adam, as if he didn’t want Adam to notice that he’d been crying, even though they both knew Adam could tell what his blood sugar was at if he wanted to find out. He closed his door, dejected, and left Adam in the hall. 

That was fine, Francis would let him know when it was ready. He could go to his own office and take a much deserved nap in the meantime, or he could go to the locker room and take a more needed shower. He was just standing though, in front of Francis’ door, and part of him wanted to tear it off of its hinges so he could get in there and know what was wrong. 

People saw him as a machine until they got to know him. 

He went to the break room downstairs and got himself a cup of coffee instead, putting far too much sugar in it. He needed more than that but, for the moment it was all he was going to get. As he drank it he eyed the coffee machine and wondered, worrying at his lip. In a blind moment of compassion he pulled one of Francis’ many mugs down from the cupboard and got him a coffee too, keeping it straight. He refilled his own and brought bot of them to Francis’ office, knocking with the hard front of his boot. 

The door opened faster this time, Francis looking more exasperated but no better than before. “What is it?” he snapped before softening, seeing that it was Adam instead of someone else. Didn’t make him apologize. 

“You look like you could use this,” Adam offered him a small smile and the coffee. 

He could see Francis all but melt as he took the mug from him, sipping it and letting his eyelids flutter as if the crude from the break room that he drank five cups a day at a minimum was some rare ambrosia. 

“You’ve paid the troll his toll, you may pass over the bridge,” Francis decided, taking a step back. 

Adam took the invitation into the office he knew almost as well as his own. There were a few other mugs around, all empty and used, scattered around Francis’ desk.   
There was an old fashioned cell phone on his desk, probably for keeping touch with people he didn’t want accessing his infolink like Adam could. On the screen of his computer was the intel, code scrolling over the page, a loading screen overlayed on top of it. It was a third of the way through. 

“So, you went in there, knocked a few heads, and won, good job.” It was a shitty pat on the back but it was more than Francis usually gave. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be at home, drinking yourself to sleep?”

“Should be,” Adam shrugged, taking a seat on Francis’ couch, “But it looked like a certain troll could do with some company.” 

“Ha.” Francis said. He was still standing there, next to the desk, as if he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit. In his own office. “As if! There’s a reason trolls live under bridges alone, Jensen.”

Adam patted the cushion next to him, inviting Francis over. The decryption was mostly all done by computer, he could steal Francis’ attention until the next step at least. Francis hesitated, shook his head, bit his lip, and finally made his way to the couch, to sit next to Adam, fa enough away that only their knees touched. 

“I know I’m not the company psychologist,” Adam smirked. “but I know you hate her anyway. What’s up?” 

“I am. And I will be for another few hours,” Francis retorted. “It’s nothing. I don’t need your pity.” 

“Okay, I wasn’t offering any.”

Francis snorted, leaning forward so that his elbows were on his knees, his back sloped. With his hair down he was almost pretty. At this angle Adam could see the allure of him, more than he always pretended wasn’t there. 

“It’s nothing important. Just boy problems.”

Adam quirked an eyebrow. He hadn’t known that Francis was into boys but that piqued his interests. He thought that Francis was too busy with machines for a relationship of any kind. 

“Donald from downstairs?” Adam jested.

Francis pulled a face. “No! Ew! That guys like half my age!” Not possible but Adam didn’t push. “No. Um. Look, this is stupid middle school bullshit .It doesn’t leave the office, okay?”

“Okay.”

Francis sighed. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. He breathed a shuddering wet breath. “We broke up. Well, I broke up with him. The anger has simmered own and now all that’s left is the self hatred, disgust, and betrayal. I’m not taking it so well.” 

“I can see that.” Adam leaned forward, mirroring his stance. “What happened?”

“Nothing I shouldn’t have expected,” Francis sighed and that breath was shakier than the one before it. “I spend too much time at work, am too weird and sarcastic, he went and found someone else. I wasn’t supposed to find out, it didn’t mean anything, but it meant everything. So I broke up with him but now I’m thinking he was right, that anyone else is better, I’m good for a quick lay but better be a booty call and a forgotten face than an actual romantic partner.”

He was eating himself alive, Adam could see that. The break up had to be recent, he would have guessed earlier that night, especially if Francis’ phone was out. He was waiting for a call, a text, something, for the bastard to come back and apologize. He wasn’t going to get that. He wasn’t going to get any closure from this. He’d seen it before. He’d been betrayed enough times to know that no amount of apologies would ever remove the hurt. 

“He didn’t know you very well then.” Adam set his coffee on the side table and put his hand on Francis’ knee. Far more intimate than either of them were used to, but definitely desired by the look on Francis’ face. “Yeah you’re a sarcastic prick but your loyal and hard working and persistent as shit. No one deserves to be cheated on, not even loud mouth hackers. Shit, no one should treat people like that, especially not that.” 

Francis hung his head down, looking further away. “I said I didn’t want your pity.” 

“I said okay. I’m not giving you pity. Hell, if I knew this guys name and address I’d teach him a lesson for you.”

“Don’t snoop,” Francis hissed glaring at him. Adam could see the moisture building in his eyelashes. He must have been so tired from so much crying. 

“I won’t. He’s not worth it. But if you wanted me to, I would. Because you are worth it.”

“Lying doesn’t help people feel better.” 

He took his hand off of Francis’ knee to run it through his long hair, putting some of the messier strands in place. He wished that he could feel it, really feel it, instead of just touch. 

“I’m not lying but, I do want you to feel better. That’s sympathy, by the way, not pity.”

Francis finally got closer, finally let his head rest on Adam’s shoulder. Adam adjusted, wrapped his arm around Francis’ back, and held him close, let him rest his face against Adam’s chest, let him hold onto him. He’d spent enough nights full of self loathing that he knew the signs, could pick them up early, and he knew that he’d wanted nothing more in those moments to be touched, reassured, allowed to exist as he was. 

“It’s okay,” he promised and that was enough to let the dam break again, to let Francis know that he could cry and nothing would come of it. Adam was there, running a hand down his back, wishing he could do more. He saw the loading bar fill up, the decryption ready for the next step but, instead of saying anything, he just sat there, and he held Francis, wanting to do more than just be a shoulder to lean on.


End file.
